It is about three
years ago since I first visited the University of Nairobi grounds for a Mean
Machine tournament. It was a Kenya Cup match and they were up against KCB
lions, at the time the likes of Derrick Wamalwa a.k.a “burdizzo” as I knew him
from back in the day when he played with my brother, was in the KCB squad.
I had heard about
the team, but it was only when Fly half Filden Sinei insisted that on my number
something ‘22’ weekend, we have a road trip from our prestigious campus in
Eldoret to Nairobi for a game. So being the people’s person that I am (do not
deny), I rounded up a couple of my best buds. Sophie, Njeri, Christine, Jossy
were among those who made the grand appearance for a game they knew nothing
about. (I am not in that category I was exposed to the game by my big bro when
I was in primary school)
That was a small
genesis of my “relationship” with the team, which was rekindled last Saturday
at the pool party for their annual Chairman Mbuzi event. The event saw the
likes of George Mutuku “Tuku” handing over captaincy after a splendid season
playing for Kifaru and Kenya A. A nostalgic event it was, I remember how the
first one I attended was characterised by darkness and disorganization. Then
former captain Cedo set the standards with a wild bush party, organizing for
transport and affordable drinks, though people slept in the cold. I must give
it up for Tuku, he brought both the formality of the event as well as the fan
aspect, having “live” awards for the job well done, and of course that
concoction that takes contenders to auto pilot in an inch of a minute.
The Kenya lioness
party I had left for the chairman’s mbuzi was still in place with my pod mate
Emily ‘number 3’ bringing it to a super hype after a grand entrance, and I hear
she made a grand exit as a passenger on an ‘apache’ motor bike. Well in!
My last ‘24’
weekend had lots of nyama choma, ugali, kachumbari and the other clear
liquefied strong scented stuff. It was amazing to share it with people I played
with, and had spent much time with in preparation for the Elgon cup, which we
won in aggregate 72-25, not that am bragging.
The Eschuma one
however caught my eye the most, having not seen some of the former players for
a long time; it was more a reunion then a party. I had thought my ageing was
individualized until I saw Motomoto and Smalls and realized mine is much
slower, and ineffective.
These people, some
of them my good friends, I blame them for the number ‘2’ position I have played
in two years, yes them! Though I did it in high school their criticism, mockery
and some kind of support went a long way in making me take on those tackles. I
moved from fan to player in six months of intense training and weight loss,
with the extensive help of 8th man and Madegwa, and changed a major
perception of who I was…. I have nothing but absolute appreciation.
Back to the day
where food was in plenty, shots at Ksh 40 with a shortage of the popular
Guarana drink, my bestie Winnie and I indulged, we even had scrum down
competitions with some of the very old boys, who were unable to beat us. We are
bad like that, but I don’t like to brag.
As I soon turn the
page to a new dawn, I remember how on my ‘22’ day I had a party with Coco at
Rodgers place in Langata. With Elly as the side kick they never failed to
ensure that a well planned but not to capacity party went down with an ‘after
party’ at Rafikis, that I had to miss cause of my work commitments.
I look back and
think, and then remember my crazy campus days, which The Eschuma boys had a
part to play in. Taking an 8-hour bus ride to enjoy the blue boys anxiously
waiting to have one at Base ya Hard with Milly and Vostie, the former ensuring
we are well entertained. I miss Vostie and Milly.
As my ‘25’ days
start I feel that going back to those days would be insane. I am too weak for
those weekly trips, too lazy for the weekend hangovers and too grown up to do
anything without a worry of the world, plus my commitment to one engineer shall
not be tested.
A character has definitely
been seen from having built my faith on nothing else, memories that not even a
concussion from a tackle by Christine Kizito can take away. My 24 was good, I
managed to graduate, but unlike the others, it has been more reserved, focused
with too much heart ache and too many disappointments. I am hoping the 25 will
be a bit more exciting, not as much as the 22 but a good one would not hurt. I
pray that I get to see the end of the 25 note it down, because I can see lots
of success stories in it. Here we go…
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